


The Wolfpack

by Ackerhardt



Series: The Disaster That is Poet Anderson [1]
Category: Poet Anderson (Novel Trilogy), Poet Anderson: The Dream Walker
Genre: Banter, F/M, Flirting, Fluff, Gun Violence, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, Lucid Dreaming, Trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-28
Updated: 2020-03-28
Packaged: 2021-03-01 00:55:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23366542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ackerhardt/pseuds/Ackerhardt
Summary: Poet Anderson failed in getting rid of REM the first time, choosing to save Alan instead. Now he tries again, ending worse than the last time, with his pride, and body, taking a huge hit. Leaving Samantha Birnam-Wood with the task of helping him stand tall once again. Genesis needed Poet Anderson after all, as much as Poet Anderson needed Samantha.
Relationships: Jonas "Poet" Anderson & The Dream Walkers, Jonas "Poet" Anderson/Samantha Birnam-Wood
Series: The Disaster That is Poet Anderson [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1680616
Kudos: 1





	The Wolfpack

Poet had thought this was going to be a good idea. He’d thought that he was being clever, that he’d thought this out. He was finally going to take his revenge on REM for the indirect death of Jarabec, and the all too real death of his parents. He’d had a plan, a damn good one he’d thought. He’d even convinced the Dream Walkers to fight for him again, a task he’d thought would’ve been impossible after the forest battle fiasco. But they’d agreed, all placing their trust in him once again. Yet, here he was, standing frozen, hopelessly gazing as Halo’s clashed and bullets whizzed.  _ They were losing _ . How was this--He didn’t mean to--He couldn’t do this again! 

A girl with ginger hair, a Dream Walker, shoved him roughly aside as a yellow Halo came in front of him, taking the hit from a Night Stalker’s bullet. Poet stumbled, blinking in confusion, snapping from his daze. He eyed the gun in his hand, and in a fluid motion pointed it at the Night Stalker, taking a shot. It was blocked by the lifeless Halo of the Night Stalker, but taking that opening, the female Dream Walker charged the Night Stalker, impaling it on her sword. She gave a curt nod to Poet before rushing back into the field.  _ He had to help _ . He just couldn’t get his powers to activate, he felt the tingling in his fingers, but he couldn’t call upon it. If he could just  _ clear his mind _ . 

He heard the deafening clang of two Halo’s meeting head on, and he snapped his gaze to where it had come from. Giving him full view as a shorter Dream Walker battled three Night Stalkers, their Halo furiously working overtime as they neared the edge of the building they stood on top of. They weren’t fast enough to block a bullet aimed at their gut, although it didn’t stop them from retaliating, catching one of their attackers by surprise. It would prove to be in vain, as Poet watches them get bashed over the edge of the building, disappearing from view. Poet’s eyes rounded, he needed to hurry!  _ Focus! A dream is a dream is a dream and I-- _

“ **You know, I don’t even know if I want you on my side anymore. You’ve got quite the knack for killing your allies, don’t you boy?** ” Cold, thin, claw like hands grip Poet’s arms as a shrill laugh fills his ears. The grip is strong enough to make him drop his gun and presumably draw blood. Poet wills the sparks from his fingertips to travel the length of his arms, his urgency growing when nothing happens. 

“ **Even now, you’ve been a great help to me…** ” One of the hands on his arms lets go, instead gesturing to the carnage unfolding in front of them. Poet reluctantly follows the arm, waiting to break the grip REM had on him. “ **...Bringing the Dream Walkers straight to me.** ” Poet sees as the Dream Walker who’d helped him earlier gets nailed to the wall by her sword. Anger surges through him, giving him the means to awake a fraction of his powers, finally being free of REM’s grip. Poet faces REM with a confident and calculating expression, using his foot to kick up the gun from the floor into his hands. 

“Fuck off! I told you before, I’m not afraid of you.” Poet watches REM carefully, already knowing the other could move extremely fast. REM gives him a doubtful and distasteful expression, a smug aura coming off of them. 

“ **You think what you have is bravery boy? No, no, no, why you’ve merely managed to forget the feeling of fear.** ” Poet just barely dodges the quick swipe at him from REM, sliding under the limb. Next swipe his luck runs out as he feels himself be slammed into a nearby wall, knocking the breath out of him. Without pause he feels himself being dragged, and he thinks he hears someone call him, but he can’t tell. 

“ **Luckily for you, I can help you with that, allow me to reintroduce you.** ” REM dangles Poet over the edge of the building, sounding amused. Poet glances down, panic swelling in his chest, as his feet meet no solid ground and his arms claw desperately at the arm suspending him in the air. He can see the asphalt street below, and  _ the very long drop _ . 

His stomach drops as the arm lets go, letting him fall. 

Jonas jolts awake, sitting up in his bed, sweat clinging to his entire being. It takes him a few agonizing seconds to realize that he wasn’t alone in the room. Sitting on the edge of his bed was Sam,whose expression he could interpret as concerned. She scoots closer, and seemingly inspects his disheveled appearance further. She gives him a gentle smile, and Jonas has to compose himself. Remind himself that he was here, not there and that it was over, had been for awhile now. Regardless, he can still feel the weightlessness of his descent and the unmerciful impact of the solid ground. The  _ fear, the panic,  _ it sticks to him, even in the waking world. 

Jonas downcasts his sights with a somber expression, until he feels his cheeks be grabbed gently by a pair of hands. He looks up again, meeting Sam’s fiery gaze, one full of mute determination. She leans in, catching his lips in a passionate kiss. An action that he reciprocates in full force. Pulling back, she loops her arms around his waist, pulling him closer. Jonas is grateful for the intimacy, leaning his chin on her shoulder. Intaking her intoxicating scent, he relaxes, feeling his fear melt into more of an afterthought. She was here with him now, anchoring him to this reality. He loved her, and she loved him, that was all that mattered at that moment. 

“I wish you’d talk to me Jonas.” Samantha said quietly, holding Jonas tighter than was needed. She’d never admit it, but the only reason she was here in the first place, was because she too had had a nightmare. She had been so close to losing him that night and there would’ve been nothing she could’ve done about it either. Her nightmare had fueled her what if scenarios. Even now, she could still recall the events that had transpired as clear as day. 

Samantha had been so frustrated, so irate. How dare Jonas try to deal with REM alone, and trick her into staying in the waking world. He was so dead whenever she found him. Her anger faltered as she heard the sounds of fighting coming from the building in front of her. What if he was in trouble? What if-- She stopped her thoughts dead, not wanting to venture there. She looked up at the building again, they were on the roof. It would take her forever to get up there. Still, she had to get up there and help! 

Before she could even enter the building, she’s stopped by a Dream Walker. One wearing the full armor, Halo floating next to them. Samantha gives them a fierce look, not willing to back down, she was not leaving Poet to fight this mess himself. 

“Don’t go young lady. It’s not pretty.” The Dream Walker stands their ground, and then to prove their point gestures to a Dream Walker lying, presumably dead. “Came here just to see Ayera like this.” There’s a sadness to the Dream Walker’s tone, and Samantha can’t help but feel remorseful. She’s about to offer words of comfort when a loud crash startles both of them, a car alarm goes off as well. 

Samantha and the Dream Walker stare at each other, rushing to the source to see if they could help somehow. She searches her bag of medical supplies she borught, while running towards the source. The Dream Walker is just ahead of her, stopping in front of a car, but she wasn’t really focusing on it, more immersed in finding supplies still. 

“Oh my god.” She hears the Dream Walker say breathily. Samantha hurries her searching, they sounded to be in bad condition. 

“S-Sam…” 

Samantha whips her head up, she knew that voice.  _ It couldn’t be… _ Her heart sinks, her world halting for a moment as she recognizes Poet. She stares in shock at his badly bruised form, the torn tailcoats, the unfocused eyes staring at her and finally the blood dripping down the sides of the car. 

She rushes to his side, cupping his cheeks as she surveys the damage. Her mind is thrown into overdrive as every second feels worse than the next. She turns to the Dream Walker in panic. 

“Do something! Anything!” She practically shouts at them, getting them to snap from whatever reverie they were in. Poet’s breaths start getting shallower as he gazes up somewhere, she looks him over and then follows his line of sight. On top of the building she can see REM staring down at them, Samantha glares at the monster, very eloquently proceeding to flip them off. Although she immediately looks away back to Poet as he starts coughing, adding to her horror as she realizes he’s coughing up his own blood. 

“Can anyone hear me? We need to retreat! The Poet is down.” Samantha can hear the Dream Walker talking, but she’s too focused on making sure Poet didn’t die on her. He wouldn’t dare do that, she reasons. 

“Stay with me Jonas.” She says only to him. 

Samantha brings herself back to the present, Jonas was still in her hold, and he still hadn’t said anything. 

“Do you want to go to my dreams tonight?” She asks softly, feeling him shift in her embrace. 

“That’d be nice.” He responds, pulling away and giving her a small confident smile. She mirrors it, allowing herself to be pulled into bed with Jonas. There she once again wraps her arms around him, pulling his back close to her chest. 

“I’ve got a great place for tonight.” She says to him teasingly, to which she can feel him snort. 

“You better hope so, if it’s any kind of carnival again, I’m leaving you to it.” He says, his more rambunctious personality coming to light again, much to Samantha’s delight. 

“You wound me.” She says with mock hurt, pinching one of his sides. He swats her hand, laughing slightly. 

“If you keep pinching me, I can’t fall asleep.” He reminds her. 

“We can’t have that, now can we?” She murmurs, getting more comfortable. She hears him hum in agreement, and allows her thoughts to wander. The last few nights she’d taken him to various memories of hers, always telling more about herself while he listened, and commented, usually something stupid. Then she’d let him experiment with his powers, or let him take her to his dream, where he’d conjure something nice for her. Flowers, chocolates, jewelry, he loved getting creative. While she loved seeing the pure joy he seemed to have towards the actions. He always did seem more relaxed and confident in the dream world, but then again, she felt that way too. 

Opening her eyes, she finds herself in her own dream. Focusing, she changes the landscape to the one she’d chosen for tonight. She was going to have to be careful about this. Currently she was sitting on the edge of the Eiffel Tower, her legs over the edge. She’d taken the landscape from her trip to Paris that her family had gone on. It was a very beautiful city, and to see it again in her dream was somewhat nostalgic. However, as pretty as the sight of the city was, she was very high up from the ground, and Poet would be too when he came here. She knew that would make him antsy, like he’d been ever since the incident. He may have tried to hide it, hide the effects of the incident, so much so that no one else caught on, but he couldn’t fool her. She just wanted to help him, to support him through this whole mess. 

Poet opened his eyes, taking in the sight of the infamous subway car. A quick look through the window confirmed the destination, Genesis. He would never get there though, as he had other plans. A few passengers gave him a wary look, recognizing him. He didn’t pay them any mind, gripping his umbrella handle tighter with a frown at the absence of Sketch and Gunner. He didn’t give himself long to dwell on the thought, instead calling upon his powers, tunneling to his wanted destination, ignoring the dull ache in his eyes. 

All of the passengers perked up at the display of his powers. All inspecting him like he was the most interesting person they’d seen their whole lives, and who knew, maybe he was. He didn’t particularly care though, stepping through the tunnel he had created while it closed behind him immediately. 

Poet takes one step into Sam’s dream, shaking his head in some pathetic attempt at lessening the pain in his eyes. He lets Sam’s hand guide him into sitting, not paying attention to his surroundings yet. When he does open his eyes, he’s immediately startled by the daunting drop in front of him. He begins to stand up so he could move away when Sam’s grip tightens. She gives him a reassuring smile, patting the spot next to her. He had managed to partially get up, and after weighing his options for a minute, takes the spot next to her. She continues holding his arm, almost as if to let him know she was here for him. Looking down, Poet feels his anxiety increase, as he thinks to that night. 

“My family came here last year, my step mother really wanted to visit Paris.” As if sensing his thoughts, Sam cuts them off, filling Poet’s head with her sweet voice instead. 

“Oh?” He encourages her to keep going. 

“Yeah, a lot happened here.” There’s a mischievous glint in Sam’s eyes, and Poet gives her a cross of a love struck and confident grin. “My step mother fell into one of the fountains when some guy pushed her in. As awful as it sounds, I had to stifle my laughter.” 

“Really?” Poet asks in between laughs, also feeling bad, she was mostly a pleasant woman, but this was just too unfortunate. 

“Yeah! It caused this huge scene.” Sam confirms, telling Poet all of the crazy things that happened during their trip, he starts to feel his anxiety fade away with her words. Her father got cheated out of some money, she got lost somewhere, they got the wrong hotel room and their flight back got cancelled. According to her it was all very annoying at the time, but she could laugh about it now. He mostly watched her mannerisms, listening without interrupting her too much. He did have a few contributions to the conversations though, but who could really deny an opportunity for a pun? The last one which earned him a loss of his hat, which sat snugly perched on her head now. 

“You still listening Mr.Anderson?” Sam tips the hat on her head in an amused fashion, imitating their English teacher’s voice. 

“Of course I am Mrs.Birnam-Wood.” Poet responds, not missing a beat. 

“Well then you’d know that there was nothing to listen to.” Sam crosses her arms, amusement still present. “I stopped talking a long time ago, what say you?” 

“I say that you can’t fault me for getting lost in those radiant eyes of yours.” In a swift motion he reclaims his bowler hat, setting it atop his head gracefully. She cocks an eyebrow, unimpressed. 

“Flattery isn’t getting you out of this one.” She leans over into his personal space, he smiles, fully on board with this. That is until she pulls back, causing a frustrated huff from Poet, who had started getting into the mood. “You’re just too adorable.” She says, booping him on his nose. 

“I think you’ve got the wrong adjective there, have you been listening in English class at all?” Poet rolls his eyes, he was a lot of things, but adorable was not one of them. 

“This is very rich coming from you, the one who sleeps during most of the classes.” She’s quick to point out, leaning back. 

“Come now, I already know all the material.” Poet declares confidently, looking proud of himself. She punches his arm playfully, muttering ‘show off’ under her breath. He was going to comment on it, before feeling a buzzing in the front of his coat. She looks at him curiously as he fishes the device from his pocket, frowning at the messenger ID. 

“The Eden?” Sam asks, not liking the downquirk of Poet’s lips. 

“You fucking guessed it.” He sets the device aside, looking up at the incomplete sky, slicking back his hair. The Dream Walkers had been pestering him non stop, some about his future involvement, some about his present involvement and some about his past involvements. None of them were optimistic towards him, all having something to criticize. It was like no matter what, he was doomed to failure. The last visit had been the worst. 

A Dream Walker had visited the Eden Hotel in the waking world, wanting to see him. He could already tell that it was going to be an unpleasant conversation, luckily Sam had been with him that moment. He’d gotten a verbal beatdown from the Dream Walker, all about his recent defeat at the hands of REM. 

“I don’t know why we have to work with you, you’re more trouble than you’re worth.” The Dream Walker had said tone full of dismay. “If you ask me, killing you would be so much simpler.” It had taken every ounce of his self control to stop him from cussing out this man. Sam had stepped up, coming to his defense. 

“What is it with you guys, give it a rest. It’s like you’ve forgotten that he’s  _ a  _ Poet, not  _ the  _ Poet.” Sam had said seriously, staring down the Dream Walker. 

“Trust me, if there was  _ anyone else _ , we wouldn’t ever bother with you.” With a final glance at him, the Dream Walker had left, taking a small piece of Poet’s dignity with him. 

In the present Sam waves a hand in front of his face, and he turns to look at her. She breaks his personal space again. 

“I have an idea that might take your mind off things.” Poet immediately picks up on the mood, feeling a heat go through his body. 

“After you left me hanging last time?” He challenges, seeing her raise her brow. 

“Oh be quiet will you?” Her eyes flick to his lips, adding to the excitement Poet feels. 

“You know me better than that.” He continues taunting her, which ended up being the last straw for her patience. In a show of strength, she pins him to the floor, clambering on top of him. Poet flushes, while keeping a grin on his features. 

“I like this a lot better.” Sam says very smugly before leaning in for a kiss. He eagerly accepts, he feels her hands travel along his body, sending shivers down his spine. By the end of it they’re both out of breath, Poet more so, due to the weight of her on him. She doesn’t give him a chance to recover though as she starts peppering kisses down his neck to his collarbone. A few gasps later he settles his hands into a more suggestive place of hers, he liked where this was going  _ very much _ . She stops, giving him a sideways glance from right next to his neck. 

“And where might your hands be  _ Poet _ ?” 

“Right where they should be.” He meets her gaze, challenging her. 

  
“Guess we’ll be going all the way tonight.”  _ Oh yes please! _ Poet’s entire being seems to be screaming. Sam doesn’t miss the look he gives, continuing where she left off. Oh the things Alan would say to him if he could see him now.  _ It’s always a girl with you. _ His thoughts are interrupted, going straight to the gutter when Sam’s touches start getting less innocent. How he managed to get someone like Sam to fall for him, he’d never know.

**Author's Note:**

> How does Poet Anderson have literally no fandom? Blasphemy!  
> Please if there's anyone out there who's read/watched Poet Anderson, I'm desperate to share this amazing series with someone.  
> Maybe I should stop writing these odd fics at 4AM instead....and proofread them too. 
> 
> About the actual story though, I swear Sam is the lead in this relationship.


End file.
